The Billionaire's Silent Wife (Ryan and Eve) novel Chapter 181

The Station the Trace and the Empty Tower

181 The Station, the Trace, and the Empty Tower

Ryan didn’t remember the drive.

He remembered the moment he realised Eve’s phone was switched off.

He remembered the way his house sounded when it was too empty.

He remembered Marlene’s voice on the line, she was home when I left, and the way those words had turned his stomach because they meant Eve hadn’t simply gone out on a whim.

Then time became a blur of movement and cold, controlled terror.

He changed his shirt without knowing why, like looking put together could control a world that was tearing

open. He checked the rooms again, like repetition would bring her back. He called her again, like the fifth

attempt would do what the first four couldn’t.

Switched off.

Switched off.

Switched off.

The panic in him wasn’t loud. Ryan’s panic never was. It was precise, sharp, narrowing, turning everything

into targets and steps.

He could not be the man who waited.

Waiting was how people vanished.

He picked up his phone and scrolled to Tevin’s contact. His thumb hovered for half a second, then pressed

call.

Tevin answered on the second ring, voice thick with sleep and surprise. “Ashbrook?”

Ryan’s voice was low and clipped. “Eve is missing.”

Silence.

Then Tevin’s tone snapped awake. “What.”

“My wife isn’t home,” Ryan said. “Her phone is switched off.”

Tevin swore under his breath. “Where are you.”

“On my way to the station,” Ryan said. “I need you there.”

Tevin didn’t ask why. He didn’t waste time. “I’m coming. Calling Maxwell.”

Ryan ended the call and dialled Maxwell before his hand could shake.

Maxwell picked up immediately, voice calm in a way that made it dangerous. “Ryan.”

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14 The Station the Trace and the Empty Tower

“Eve is missing,” Ryan said.

A pause.

Maxwell’s voice went colder. “Where.”

“Station,” Ryan replied. “Now.”

Maxwell didn’t argue. “I’ll meet you.”

Ryan hung up, jaw clenched so tight it hurt.

He didn’t call his parents.

He didn’t call Steven.

He didn’t call anyone else who would complicate the first move.

Police first. Official record. Immediate action.

Because once a report existed, it became harder for anyone to bury it quietly.

Clash

The station lights were harsh, fluorescent, and the air smelled like paper and old coffee and the kind of

exhaustion that lived in places where people showed up after something terrible happened.

Ryan walked in like the building belonged to him, not out of entitlement, but out of refusal to be delayed by

bureaucracy.

A front desk officer looked up, bored, then saw his face and straightened instinctively.

“Mr. Ashbrook,” the officer said, voice shifting into forced politeness. “How can we,

“My wife is missing,” Ryan cut in.

The officer blinked. “Missing as in,”

“As in she is not where she should be,” Ryan said, voice flat. “Her phone is switched off. She’s pregnant.

This is unlike her.”

The officer hesitated, already preparing the standard line. “Sir, adults,”

“I’m aware adults can leave,” Ryan snapped. His gaze sharpened, controlled anger cracking through. “That

is not what this is. She’s not answering. She didn’t tell anyone she was going anywhere. And her phone is

switched off.”

The officer held up his hands slightly. “Sir, we typically advise waiting twenty-four hours before,”

Ryan stepped closer. “If you want to tell me to wait, then you can do it while filing the report.”

The officer swallowed, suddenly uncertain.

“Now,” Ryan said, voice low. “Who is the chief on duty.”

The officer looked like he wanted to resist, then glanced at Ryan’s suit, his face, his name, the way he

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181 The Station the Trace and the Empty Tower

stood like a man who could make this station’s life unbearable with a single call.

“I’ll get the chief,” the officer said quickly. “Please, please wait here.”

Ryan didn’t sit.

He stood at the counter like a threat.

Glum

Tevin arrived first, pushing through the doors with his hair slightly rumpled and his jacket thrown over a

T-shirt like he’d dressed in ten seconds.

He spotted Ryan immediately and walked over, eyes sharp.

“Talk to me,” Tevin said, voice low.

Ryan didn’t look away from the counter. “She’s gone.”

Tevin’s mouth tightened. “Gone how.”

Ryan’s jaw flexed. “I don’t know yet.”

Tevin exhaled through his nose, then stepped slightly beside him, presence steady. “We’ll find her.”

Ryan didn’t respond.

Maxwell arrived minutes later, silent and solid, scanning the room like he was already reading people’s

intentions.

He stepped to Ryan’s other side without saying anything.

Tevin glanced at him. “You got the call.”

Maxwell nodded once. “I’m here.”

Ryan’s hands were in his pockets, fists clenched tight enough to hurt.

He didn’t want to show panic.

But his body didn’t care about pride.

The chief of police appeared, an older man with a tired face and a cautious gaze. He looked at Ryan, then

at Tevin and Maxwell, and understood immediately this wasn’t going to be a quiet conversation.

“Mr. Ashbrook,” the chief said, voice professional. “I’m Chief Claude. I understand there’s an issue.”

Ryan’s gaze locked on him. “My wife is missing.”

The chief nodded slowly. “How long.”

“Hours,” Ryan said. “Long enough.”

The chief’s expression remained measured. “It’s not uncommon for adults to,

Ryan’s voice cut through, cold. “She’s pregnant.”

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$181 The Station the Trace and the Empty Tower A brief pause.

Chaum

“She does not switch off her phone,” Ryan added, voice tightening. “She does not disappear without telling anyone. This is unlike her.”

The chief studied him for a moment longer, then said, “We’ll take a report.”

Ryan’s jaw clenched. “Not a report. A search.”

The chief’s gaze sharpened. “Mr. Ashbrook, we have procedure,”

Ryan leaned forward slightly. “Procedure is for when time is not the enemy. Time is the enemy.”

Tevin cut in before Ryan’s tone could tip into something worse. “Chief, she’s not the type. Something’s

wrong.”

Maxwell didn’t speak, but his presence pressed agreement into the air.

The chief exhaled slowly, then nodded. “Alright. We’ll open a missing person case. We’ll start with her last

known location.”

Ryan’s chest loosened by a fraction.

“Now,” Ryan said.

The chief held up a hand. “We will need details. Her name. Description. Phone number. Vehicle

information,”

Ryan gave it all without hesitation, voice clipped, accurate, controlled.

As he spoke, he saw other officers begin to move with purpose, paper files opening, keyboards clacking,

radios crackling.

He should have felt relief.

He didn’t.

Because movement didn’t mean outcome.

Ryan waited at the station like a man strapped into his own skin.

He couldn’t sit still. He paced. He checked his phone. He stared at the door as if Eve might walk in and

prove all of this was a misunderstanding.

Tevin hovered near him, arms folded, jaw tight. “Breathe.”